The Sound of Three
by Jlocked
Summary: (This story takes place right after The Sign of Three and The Angels Take Manhattan, so beware of mild spoilers for Sherlock series 3!) The Ponds are gone and John is married. Sometimes dealing with loss is best done together. Even for psychopaths (or high-functioning sociopaths). (Another collaboration with The Lady of Purpletown)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

He really was happy for them. He was. But seeing the smiles on their faces when he told them the news… It was the end.

As he walked away, he considered his options. Going home was out of the question. The lack of John would be too palpable. He could have gone to his brother, but Mycroft had already refused to help, dismissing his pain as trivial and foolish. So he was going to run. Where or how he did not know. Just… away…

Then he heard it. That sound. That oddly familiar sound that he had heard once before. When he had gone on his first adventure as a kid. And met real pirates.

Mycroft had of course told him it was a dream. But that odd little scar on his left foot told him otherwise. He looked around. There… The warm yellow glow from the small windows. He changed direction and walked towards it. And then he ran.

The door was opening. He almost called out a greeting but then stopped a few feet away.

"You… You're not him…" he stammered.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" the oddly dressed man said, squinting at Sherlock.

A woman, with curls that were even more explosive than Sherlock's own, followed the man out of the box and gave Sherlock an approving smirk before she spoke. "I don't know who he is, sweetie, but the Tardis seemed very insistent we came here."

Sherlock looked over their shoulders. "The Tardis… She looks so different." Then he looked at the man again. "You _are _him," he said, frowning. "But you've changed too."

The man cocked his head. "So have you, I expect," he said, his voice sounding flat and very very tired. "I don't want a reunion with… whoever you are… I just want to be left alone."

He turned and walked back inside, heading for the console.

The woman grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Doctor. He needs you."

Sherlock frowned. "No, I don't," he said. "Why would I need him? I thought he had come because he needed me to help him. Again."

"You need a companion." It wasn't quite clear to whom she was speaking. "You know you do."

Sherlock huffed and turned away. "I don't need this," he muttered and he was about to leave when his eyes fell on the light from the large windows behind him. A soft breeze carried the sound of laughter and music to them and he sighed. "Fine," he muttered and turned back to face the woman. "Who are you?"

She smiled. "My name is River Song. Pleased to meet you, Mr…?" She glanced at the Doctor.

"Holmes," he answered, not looking at them. "Holmes the younger. Or Blacklock, as Rose used to call him."

River laughed. "Really? The clever little pirate boy you talked about? Now you mention it…" She met Sherlock's eyes. "Didn't recognise you without the eyepatch."

Sherlock cleared his throat and walked past her. "And you?" he said. "Are you his new companion?"

River smiled. "Sometimes."

Sherlock frowned. "Right," he said sceptically. "And what exactly are you doing here?"

"Taking the Doctor for a trip." She was still smiling.

"Oh," he considered for a moment. "Why here?" he asked then, frowning.

She shrugged. "The Tardis wanted to come here. But I'm beginning to understand why." For a moment she looked into the distance, where the party was going on, and then back at Sherlock's face.

Sherlock avoided her eyes. "Yeah..." he said a little hesitantly. "Me too." He looked in at the Doctor. "Did he lose another one?"

She nodded, sighing. "Two, actually."

Sherlock tensed for a moment, then looked back over his shoulder. "Fine," he said and stepped past her into the Tardis. "Let's go."

"Where do you want to go?" River asked, stepping towards the console.

Sherlock walked over to join the Doctor at the console, where he had been staring at the same dial for several minutes.

"I don't care," he said. "Someplace quiet?"

The Doctor nodded, but did not look up.

"Are you sure you want quiet?" River asked. "Isn't it more like you two to want an adventure to take your mind off things?"

Their shrugs were so synchronous it was almost funny.

"Really," River sighed. "You do realise that being like this isn't going to help you one bit, right?"

"Nothing is," the Doctor sighed. "It's over."

Sherlock nodded. "I never thought I'd have a best friend. What a time to find out, huh?"

"But there are things that matter. People who need you." She directed herself to the Doctor. "How about that crime planet? Or more pirates?"

"Crime?" one of them said, perking up slightly.

"Pirates?" the other asked, his eyes twinkling a little.

They turned to look at her and spoke as one: "Sure. Let's give it a try."

She chuckled. "Off we go then. Sweetie, do you want to drive this time?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No," he said. "You better do it. I'm... I'm not quite myself, just yet."

She kissed his cheek and gently pushed him out of the way.

"How come she can fly the Tardis?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh," the Doctor shrugged. "She's kind of a child of the Tardis." He seemed about to add something more, then glanced at Sherlock and apparently changed his mind.

…

"You two are the most ridiculous men I have ever known," River said, with feeling, although she was clearly suppressing her laughter while they entered the Tardis. "Good thing that at least Sherlock is relatively good with a sword. But what were you _thinking_? What's wrong with a good old-fashioned gun?"

"_Sherlock_?" The Doctor asked, clearly appalled. "I was the one who held them back at the door, thank you very much."

"You dropped your sword," River said, stressing every word.

"I still held them back..."

Sherlock snorted. "Yes, by flapping your hands so insanely about that they thought you were possessed."

River grinned. "But of course that was all part of a cunning plan. Right, sweetie?"

"It worked, didn't it?" the Doctor said, flicking his hair out of his eyes and walking to the console. "Where to now?" he asked.

River looked over at Sherlock. "What do you want to do?"

Sherlock looked at the Doctor, who smiled and flicked a switch. "I think I have an idea," he said.

...

"Okay," Sherlock said, looking around between the mass of creatures that passed their table to continue their way on the market. "That one... He... It ... is a politician. Here on vacation with a lover. Two lovers. One of them a different species." He turned to River, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course one of them is a different species," she said, before taking a sip from her drink. "Not the most spectacular deduction. It's an Ittur, you can tell from the hair on the back of his vest. Interesting. I've always wondered what those are li..." She glanced at the Doctor and grinned.

"They are quite amazing," Sherlock said, ignoring the surprised and somewhat mortified gasp from the Doctor. "Very limber and... energetic."

"I meant his lover is an Ittur, not him. He's a Quashiak. But you're right. Those are _very_ energetic. Only, this one needs a stimulant to keep both his lovers pleased. That's the green bottle he's buying at that stall," River explained.

"I know," Sherlock said. "Well, not the names of the races. But you can tell from how he's standing and the colour of the skin around his eyes that he is exhausted. Yet his brow-ridge shows clear indications of happiness and contentment. Conclusion: one of his lovers is very skilled as well as demanding. The other one is mainly for show."

River smirked. "Very good. Now that one." She pointed at an elephant-like, blue creature.

Sherlock studied it for a moment. "Ohhh," he said, frowning slightly. "It can't find its parent." He looked around the market. "Maybe we should tell it to go look behind those stalls."

"Yes, but... I'm not sure we should send a child into that section," River said. "The parent has probably left it for a moment to buy what they needed there, but it's taking longer than foreseen."

"So... Go and talk to it? Or fetch the parent?" Sherlock asked, but then he realised that the Doctor was already heading for the large child. "Oh..." Sherlock said, smiling as he got up.

"We've got the Doctor with us. A lost child can't be much of a problem. After all we've brought one ourselves." River smiled up at Sherlock.

Sherlock laughed. "True," he said and followed the Doctor.

…

The child's mother showed up before the Doctor could even finish the story he had been telling. The gigantic creature, who was carrying a large bag, had gone a dirty purple shade as she was blushing and kept apologising both to the child and to them.

They returned to finish their drinks on the terrace and then moved on between the stalls of Gummelbub, Sherlock and River continuing their deduction game, and the Doctor adding some facts here and there.

Sherlock was busy explaining why the red shade of a particular creature's shoes (all seven of them) was undeniable proof that he was planning to murder his brother, when he accidentally bumped into something tall and wide.

"Oh," he said, sounding just slightly annoyed. "Excuse me."

"Can't you watch where you're going?" a huffy, very deep but female voice sounded above him. The huge green creature bent and picked something up she had dropped.

Sherlock looked up at her, chuckling. "I'm sorry ma'am," he said. "But I was slightly distracted by that young fellow who seems to be following you. I'm not sure his intentions are... honourable." Sherlock pointed over at a small greyish creature that was trying to hide behind a purple bush.

She frowned. "What could he want from _me_?"

The thing in her hand squeaked and River gave the Doctor a questioning look.

The Doctor frowned. "Maybe his little brother," he suggested. "Your..." he pointed. "Your lunch there."

"Oh, that would hardly be lunch," she said. "An appetiser at most. But I thought it could be a cute pet. It's squishy, look." She tightened her hand around the round grey thing and its black eyes almost popped out.

"Stop that!" River said, sounding shocked.

The Doctor made a funny noise, almost like the squeak the little creature had emitted earlier. "Please... ma'am," he said, squirming a little. "Don't do that. Xsundars make such a mess when they... oh..."

The tiny creature had made a coughing sound and suddenly Sherlock was covered in a lot of sulphurous yellow goo.

"Oh, that's not a nice pet at _all_. It will ruin my carpet," the large creature said, scrunching up her face and dropping it.

The Doctor sighed and picked up the small thing, that was heaving and whimpering. "Did the bad woman make you sick?" he said, stroking it above the eyes. "You poor little thing."

Sherlock had not moved. He just stood there, staring and dripping.

River chuckled and took a handkerchief from her pocket. "We'll have to clean you up in the Tardis," she laughed as she handed it to Sherlock.

The large woman was looking angry. "Now I still don't have a pet. Maybe the one that was following me would be better..." She turned around, almost throwing a hairy passer-by to the ground.

"Oh no," the Doctor said, stepping between her and the bush, where the creature was still hiding, though it was now whining in distress, trying to make eye contact with its sibling who was hanging limply in the Doctor's arms. "That one is larger. It will simply make a bigger mess."

Sherlock dried his face and sighed. "You're right," he said to River. "I... I'm going to need more than this." He handed her back her soaked, smelly handkerchief.

"You keep that," River smirked.

The green woman huffed. "Well, I suppose I have to thank you. If I hadn't walked into you, I had taken _that_ home. Ugh."

"My pleasure," Sherlock said, holding the handkerchief between two fingertips.

The Doctor examined the little creature and then put it down on the ground. It squeed and scuttled off towards the bush.

River smiled. "Time to go?"

"In a moment," the Doctor said, smiling as he watched the reunion. A minute later he sniffed, wiped his eyes and took River's hand. "Now it's time to go," he said. Only then did they realise that Sherlock was no longer with them.

River looked around between the masses of aliens. "Where has he gone? Doctor?"

The Doctor frowned. "Maybe he went back to the Tardis? To get clean," he suggested.

River nodded. "Let's hope. He shouldn't wander around on his own here."

"Let's go see then," the Doctor said.

After a few steps, River frowned. "Did you give him a key, then?"

The Doctor shook his head, grinning a little. "No. But he nicked yours, back on Saurnar V."

"He didn't," River chuckled, but she felt in her pocket anyway. Then her eyes widened.

"He was bored," the Doctor said. "And I figured I might as well let him keep it as long as he is travelling with us. For... situations like this." They turned a corner and the Doctor stopped as he saw the Tardis. "But he's not there," he said.

"Are you sure?" River asked, but she was already looking around again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"No, ma'am. I'm afraid I cannot do that. Not without the proper paperwork."

"But I'm telling you," a deep, but slightly familiar voice said. "They will be sending the papers over later today."

"Then come back," the first voice, higher and with an odd grating quality, said. "I will not risk doing an unlicensed chipping. And I've never seen this species before. I will have to read up on it. What did you say it was?"

"Never mind," the deep voice said, sounding very annoyed. "I will take my business elsewhere."

Sherlock felt himself being picked up. He was conscious, but seemed to be paralysed.

What had happened? The last thing he remembered was standing behind the Doctor and River as they observed the reunion of the little creatures. And then he had felt a pain in his shoulder. Like a needle. He had been drugged.

He could not see. There seemed to be something covering his face. Like a hood. It was held in place by something around his neck which he rather feared was a collar. The alien woman! She must have decided he'd make a better pet. Despite him being covered in the rather astounding amounts of vomit that had been expelled by his predecessor.

Then he realised that he was no longer covered in the disgusting substance. Her first priority had been to have him cleaned. The woman really was very focused on hygiene.

He was lying face down over something that was probably her shoulder, which was swaying and moving. She was carrying him along. To her home? He rather hoped that she had been bluffing about taking him to someone else who would consent to performing a chipping, and who knew what other procedures, on an 'unlicensed' pet.

There was a metallic click. Like some kind of lock.

And then Sherlock was lowered and placed on something soft and cool. Possibly a large seat of some kind.

There were movements and then a soft hum. They were in a vehicle. He was being taken further away from the spot where she had picked him up.

He tried speaking, but all he managed was a low groan. His jaw still would not move according to his will.

"Ssh, be quiet," the woman purred. "I'll feed you right when we get home."

Sherlock tried to huff, but it came out more like a sigh.

"Yes, I'll take good care of you," she said, sounding pleased. "Such a cutie. Nice and clean."

"H... How...?" Sherlock managed to cough, not sure if she could make out the word.

"How? Oh, I gave you a nice bath. You're so pretty. For a pet, I mean," she said, in the same content tone of voice.

"Why?" he tried.

"Because I want a pet, of course! No use sitting there all lonely in that big house. You'll do just fine. Keeping me company, uttering a word now and then, and I'll feed you at regular times and cuddle you at night. Perfect, isn't it?" The vehicle was slowing down.

"A word?" Sherlock managed a weak chuckle. As soon as this drug, whatever it was, wore off, he'd give her a lot more than a word.

"You're a lot better than the small one I had, you know. There's more to cuddle. So glad you didn't watch where you went," she continued.

"Stupid..." Sherlock grumbled and then settled down to trying to learn as much about the creature and her vehicle from what he could hear and feel.

Then they stopped moving, she got out and, from the sounds of it, went around the front of the vehicle to open the door to his seat.

...

"Land here, Doctor," River ordered as she was looking intently at the screen of the Tardis console.

"Here?" the Doctor frowned. "It's almost right on top of where we last saw him. We know he's not in this area."

"Maybe he didn't wander off that far. He might be waiting for us. And the Tardis says the key is right below us," River said.

"If you say so," he said, and landed the Tardis just outside the market place, in front of a large shop of some kind. The facade of the building was covered in white tiles and the name on the sign on the door translated as 'Pet Spa and Maintenance'.

River frowned as she saw the sign. "Come on," she said, grabbing the Doctor's hand and pulling him along.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," the shopkeeper said as soon as she walked in. "Oh, I see what you've got there. Timelords have become _quite_ rare these days. No wonder you want him chipped."

"Oi!" The Doctor looked scandalised. "Why are you assuming that _I_ am _her_ pet?"

"Sweetie," River said, rolling her eyes, "he's not _blind_." Then she directed herself to the shopkeeper. "You don't happen to have seen a man in a dark coat? Possibly in the company of a large green woman?"

The shopkeeper hesitated. "Usually I value my customers' privacy. But I must admit there was something fishy in this case. Was he yours?"

"In a way," River nodded. "So have they gone, or are they still in the back?"

He shook his head, sadly. "They're off."

"So they must have left things. From Sher... from the pet," River said.

"Yes, indeed, they left his loose shells or skins or... whatever that was." The man nodded enthusiastically. "I've kept it for you, if it's of any value..."

The Doctor sighed and reached into his pocket. "We'll be having that," he said, holding up his psychic paper.

The man frowned at the paper for a moment. "So you're not a pet," he said slowly.

"Not officially," River smiled.

"Right. I'll get you the things they left." The shopkeeper turned and disappeared for a moment.

"I'm _not _your pet," the Doctor muttered to River, glancing around the room.

River just gave him an indulgent grin.

After a minute, the shopkeeper returned with Sherlock's coat, scarf and jacket.

"Any ideas where they went?" River asked.

The man shrugged.

"Can you tell us anything about the... owner?" the Doctor asked, examining the coat. He found the Tardis key in one of the pockets and sighed.

River frowned at the key, then looked expectantly at the shopkeeper.

"Well... Rather... green and... tall," he started describing.

"Yes, but do you know where she lives? Where we can find her and the pet?" River asked impatiently.

He stroked his beard. "Well… Maybe I could help you, but like I said, I value privacy. I want the people who come here with their pets to be able to trust me…"

"You want to get paid," River said, rolling her eyes.

"This is a business just like any other," the spa owner shrugged.

The Doctor held up his psychic paper again. "And you'd like to stay in business, right?"

The man squirmed. "Yes, of course, but… It might give me a bad name…"

"We can make sure your reputation gets a lot worse than that," River said, almost friendly.

"Right." The shopkeeper frowned, bent to take something from behind the counter and handed it to them.

The Doctor examined the strange round object. "Thank you," he said before turning to River. "We should take this to the Tardis."

…

"There we are." The woman removed the hood and then lifted Sherlock out of the vehicle and carried him into a huge white round building. She looked down at him in her arms. "Now what does my woochi-woochi want to eat?"

"Don't eat..." Sherlock grumbled, testing his muscle control, which was returning more and more by the minute.

"Oh, are you one of those species that doesn't need _anything_? Perfect, perfect!" She almost clapped her hands, but then seemed to remember she was still carrying Sherlock and put him down on a giant chair, where she loosened the collar a little.

Sherlock curled up immediately, and rubbed at his arms, feeling cold and aching slightly.

"I'll just go get you some pillows and something to play with. Don't worry, I'll be back in a second!" she said cheerily, before she waddled out of the room.

As soon as she was gone, Sherlock got to his feet, feeling more than a little wobbly. He went over to the windows and got up on his toes to look out. The dwelling seemed to be in some kind of suburban neighbourhood, though all the buildings were of greatly varying sizes and shapes, as if they housed very different creatures. So a borough for aliens. A middle class ghetto.

He listened for a moment, and when he had determined she was several rooms away, he went over to the door through which they had entered, examining the strange panel that seemed to serve as a handle. It was almost out of his reach, but by jumping he managed to press the button that seemed to be used most often. The door made a strange kind of hum and seemed to shift a little, but it did not open. Guessing it needed to be pushed for a longer time to actually open the door, he began looking around for something to stand on so he could reach it.

"Oooh," her voice sounded suddenly behind him, and he almost dropped the large stool he was trying to carry over to the door.

She dumped the stack of pillows and brightly-coloured blubber in one of the chairs and walked over to him. "Poor dear. You should have told me! No need to be ashamed, I'll take care of you." She pressed the button and the door opened. "There you go."

Sherlock glanced up at her and then bolted for the door. He wasn't entirely sure what she was up to, but he wasn't going to let a chance like that slip away.

"Oh, you really needed it, didn't you? I should have known, it's often a side-effect of the drug. Poor thing," she said, following him lazily. "Don't go too far, dear!"

Sherlock ran towards the nearest clump of... trees? Plants, anyway, tall enough to disappear between.

"Hey, where are you going?" he heard the woman cry behind him, but she couldn't keep up with him with her heavy limbs, and soon he couldn't hear her anymore as he kept running through the plants and then over the street between the strange mix of big and small houses.

"Well, you seem to be in quite a hurry," a greasy voice suddenly said next to his ear.

Sherlock jumped in surprise and tried to dodge the large hand making a grab for him, but it got a hold of the back of his shirt and he fell, confused and - he hated to admit it - scared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Whoa, calm down," the big wolfish creature grinned. "I was just looking for guests. No need to run. Look, I have a restaurant." He waved his claws at the building behind him, which had horrible flashing lights and indeed a couple of empty tables inside.

Sherlock frowned. He did not like the look of his captor. Or host... But in there, he'd be less likely to be spotted by his would-be owner than out here on the street. So, panting slightly, he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Sure."

The grin widened. "Good, good..." He put his large clawed hand on Sherlock's back and pushed him forward into the checkered-tiled restaurant. "Just choose where you want to sit. The chairs on the left side of the room should all be around your size to sit on. I'll get you a menu, okay?"

Sherlock looked around. The chairs were indeed suitable for someone of human size. They certainly did not fit the much larger host or most of the guests on the other side of the room. He nodded again and went over to take a seat.

"You know how it is," the host said in his sing-song voice as he saw Sherlock looking around. He handed him the menu. "With so many species in one village, groups are always being formed. But I take care of you small ones. Now, I do have a few suggestions that are not on the menu today. Would you like to hear them?"

Sherlock decided this was not the time to disclose the fact that he did not have anything that would pass for currency, so he just accepted the menu and glanced at it. "Yes. Thank you," he said.

The man grinned again. "Well, we have the special with garlic and cucumber. Then of course our cheese from the house. Grated oyoyoy root. And..." He studied Sherlock for a moment. "Yes, I think the peppers will be nice, too. Your choice. It all combines very nicely with the meat."

Sherlock waved a dismissive hand at the creature, scanning the road outside the windows. The large green woman was nowhere in sight. As soon as the host was gone, he'd get out of there. "Whatever you think best," he said. "You're the expert, I'm sure."

"Ooooh." The host winked. "Letting _me_ choose? Well, there aren't many who do _that_..." He licked his lips. "Yes, I think the peppers will be particularly good."

Sherlock sort of smiled at him and began checking his pockets to see if he had anything that might be useful. Alas, the vet, or whatever that had been, seemed to have taken everything.

"So..." The host was still staring at him. "What are you waiting for? Won't you come along to the kitchen?"

Sherlock looked up at him. "What?" he asked, having not really been paying attention. "No. Of course not. What would I be doing in the kitchen?"

The host smiled, a little amused. "Helping, of course! You don't have to worry about the others." He waved at the smaller guests. "_They_ still haven't decided what they want. It doesn't happen so often that someone is ready so quickly..."

Sherlock sighed as he got up. So the thing had apparently realised that he would not be able to pay. Telepathy, probably. He supposed the custom of having the clientele work for their meal _before _it was served did make sense. And he'd be completely out of view in the kitchen. Maybe there would be a back door so he could get away.

As soon as they were in the kitchen, the host took a large knife from the block. "The disadvantage of the recipe with the peppers," he said, "is that I need to prepare the meat first, and only then I can make the sauce in its juices." He took a large step forward to Sherlock.

Sherlock looked around the kitchen, shaking his head a little. Whatever that woman had given him, it was finally starting to wear off. "Anything I can do to help?" he asked, mainly to buy time while looking for the exit. "Where's the meat?"

"The meat?" The full grin of sharp teeth was back.

"RUFUS!" The kitchen doors banged open and the green woman stooped to stick her head in the kitchen. She was so angry she was literally steaming. "I _knew_ we couldn't trust you!"

The host looked up and blinked. "What? He's just another customer!"

"This poor thing is scared and confused and has _no_ idea what this is." She sounded a little hysterical. "It's sick enough that you give these little ones the option to come here, but without informing them! And don't you see he's wearing a collar? You only think of your own fat stomach!"

"Well, you're one to speak," Rufus muttered, but he looked a little nervous and gave Sherlock a shove against his back in her direction. "Don't tell me he's another one of your pets..."

"And why not? I'll take good care of this one!"

Sherlock looked back and forth between the two. Then it clicked. He ducked behind a counter and scurried for the back door. Which proved to be much too heavy for him to open.

"Oh dearie, now don't run again!" the woman complained.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock gasped and took a step back as the door swung open and revealed River and the Doctor, holding, respectively, a gun and a sonic screwdriver. He almost threw himself into River's arms as he cried: "Get me out of this place. Please."

"Just one moment," River said.

"Oh dear. She's gonna tell me I've been a bad wolf," Rufus sighed, grinning at the Doctor.

…

"Your clothes are in the Tardis," River smiled as they were walking towards the box. She was in a good mood, clearly having enjoyed her long rant about what she thought of eating guests and stealing other people's pets.

Sherlock had a bit of a headache, but was otherwise unscathed from his little adventure. He smiled at her. "Thank you," he said. "How did you find me?"

"The owner of the Pet Spa," River answered. "He was smarter than he looked. He thought he had better keep an eye on your... mistress. So he had given her a small transmitter, too small for her to even feel on her skin, in case he needed to send the police after her. Instead, he sent us." She held up the little round object he had given them. "She was just storming towards that restaurant when we landed the Tardis."

"How fortunate," Sherlock said, smiling.

"Yes, he seemed rather hungry..." River glanced at the Doctor. "Are you alright? You're so quiet."

The Doctor nodded but didn't speak.

River took his hand.

He gave her hand a small squeeze, but his smile did not quite reach his eyes.

Once in the Tardis, River waved at Sherlock's jacket and coat hanging over the railing. "Feel free to take another shower if you want," she said. "And make sure to get that collar off before we land again. They might get all kinds of thoughts."

Smiling, she watched Sherlock walk off, before she turned to the Doctor again and her expression grew serious. "He is _fine_. Doctor, if you start worrying like that about every little thing..."

The Doctor shook his head. "He very nearly wasn't fine," he said. "He could have been eaten. Or… fixed…" The Doctor made an awkward face. "Or any number of other horrible things. All because I had to go meddling in stuff that really didn't concern us. And..." He sighed. "He was only here to cheer me up. He could have been safely at home, if it wasn't for me."

River sighed. "He doesn't _want_ to be safely at home. He had to get away from home for a while, and he loves the danger. It's his usual lifestyle."

"Well, he won't be getting that with me," the Doctor huffed. "I'm not losing another one."

"So you'd rather stay alone and leave them on their own as well? You can give them the most wonderful adventures, Doctor. Can't you see that they think it's worth it if something should happen?"

"Worth it to them, perhaps," he said with sudden anger, slamming his hand down on the console. "They're not the ones left behind. Over and over again."

"Doctor..." River said softly, trying to catch his hand in hers. "I know it's hard. Maybe... Maybe we should bring him home, then. So you can have a moment to compose yourself. But you know what my mother told you. You shouldn't travel alone, and I agree."

"Then I won't travel," he said. "I'll find a time, a nice quiet century, where nothing will happen to the Earth and I'll just... settle down. No more adventures. No more companions."

"For a while," River nodded slowly.

He studied her for a moment and then reached up to stroke her cheek. "You will soon be busy too," he said. "They've made you a professor, remember? You'll be doing all your travelling on your own for a while."

She covered his hand with her own and turned to kiss his palm. "I know. I'm sorry. Yet... one psychopath per Tardis. We're not really doing it right." She smiled and tilted her head in Sherlock's direction, just as he walked back into the control room.

The Doctor glanced over and chuckled. "You're right," he said. "No wonder the old girl seems a bit miffed."

River laughed. "But Doctor… When I can… I promise again, we will go wherever and whenever you want."

He pulled her into a tight hug. "Of course we will, honey. Of course we will."

She nodded and kissed him gently. Then she turned towards Sherlock. "Time to bring you home, detective boy!"

Sherlock turned to them, frowning. "Tired of me already?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She smiled. "No. But we all have things to do. And friends who care about us." She glanced at the Doctor for a short moment. "We'll make sure to drop you off at an interesting time."

Sherlock shrugged. "I suppose there's no avoiding it," he said. as she put on his scarf. "Make it a good one, then."

"Oh, we will," River nodded. "Doctor?"

The Doctor smiled as he held his hand out to Sherlock. "We're dropping you off right in your living room," he said. "There's a client on the way. A woman who may just offer you the biggest challenge you've ever faced."

…

"Here you are," River said as she had indeed landed the Tardis in the living room, so neatly that none of Sherlock's usual mess had even shifted. She opened the door and kissed Sherlock's cheek as he passed. "Take care. This case will be worth your focus."

He paused, smiled and then returned the kiss. "Take care of him, Professor Song. He needs you right now." Then he turned around as the doorbell rang, loosened his scarf again and headed for the door.

The Doctor joined River and put an arm around her waist. "He'll be fine," he said. "We better leave him to it. " As the door closed behind them they could hear Sherlock's voice coming up the stairs.

"Lady Smallwood. What can I do for you?"


End file.
